


I Should Have Stayed at Home

by TheElevatorsNotWorthy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Deadpool is awasome, Drugs, Fluff, Harry Osborn is my child I love him so much why did I do this, Harry's dad is a piece of shit who needs to love his son more, Homework, Iron-Dad, M/M, Peter Parker and Wade Wilson are best Bros, Spider-son, THE BOXES - Freeform, The daily Bugle, Whump, Yes that is a warning, and hears voices, in some parts, peter needs to sleep more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheElevatorsNotWorthy/pseuds/TheElevatorsNotWorthy
Summary: Peter Benjamin Parker is doing absolutely fine, thank you very much. Each new villain of the week is being handled (maybe sometimes with a little help from Deadpool), school is going... as well as school can go, the Stark Internship is great, and his friends are awesome.But then a new villain appears that wears green and rides a flying hawk, and Peter is left feeling like he's missing something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! Back at it again with another fic- this time with a plot that I have planned that is very thicc and I am so excited to share with you guys. I have up to, like, chapter 7 planned and I actually have the next few chapters written! How's that for organisation! I love these characters with all my heart, and, although this fic it may seem all nice and fluffy and adorable, I'm just going to warn you I have some severe stuff planned. Not graphic stuff, so much (that's prone to change, though depending on what you guys want), but it's sad, and I'm dreading writing it. I will add tags as I go to leave suspense and stuff and not spoil anything, but of course, I will leave any warnings I think are necessary in the start notes, to make sure everyone feels comfortable.
> 
> Not that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy (and comment. I love reading your suggestions/predictions).   
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (P.S the title was taken from 'Best Friend' by Rex Orange County- a really good song that you guys should check out)

“Oh my _god,_ you’re ugly!” Peter said as he stood back, put his hands on his hips and took in the Rhino. “I mean, I get that rhinos are, like, wrinkly and stuff, but you just look so… ugly.”

Really, there was no other word for it. Now, don’t get him wrong, Peter wasn’t the type to go around calling people ugly, but, in the Rhino’s case, he had to make a few exceptions. It was only fair- the Rhino wasn’t even _trying_ to be unique! He had a large forehead, small eyes, and _very_ big eyebrows. You know, your typical villain appearance. What was more, the rhino part of him looked to be fused onto his skin, opposed to a suit.

Creeeepy.

“I’m sorry, but there’s really no other way to put it. What happened to you, Aleksei? You and Marko used to be such a good team! You know, ignoring the fact that I managed to get you guys arrested, what, three times last summer? Once before breakfast? What was it, half an hour while I was eating my bagel?”

The Rhino, apparently, did not appreciate being teased. He huffed, his large eyebrows scrunching to cover his small eyes. The Rhino charged.

“Note to self, don’t make Wrinkly mad,” Peter berated himself as he narrowly missed the Rhino’s large horn as he flipped over the top of the lumbering man.

“You mind telling me how you got to be so big, grey and ugly?” he asked the Rhino.

“None’ya business, web-head,” the Rhino responded.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Peter said. “Only Mr Stark calls me that, you’re ruining his image. Shame on you.” Peter ran towards the Rhino, webbed his horn, and began to flip over his head.

The Rhino seemed to be tiring- Peter had noticed that the Rhino frequently had to cool off when he got too puffed (which he figured out when the Rhino had destroyed the third fire hydrant. Wow, he was so smart!) but the Rhino managed to grab Peter’s leg as he was flipping over.

He threw Peter into a fire hydrant.

“Oh, come on! How many fire hydrants have you destroyed today, Wrinkly?” Peter jabbed.

Bad idea.

The Rhino grabbed Peter’s leg and smashed him against the floor, creating a crater in the pavement. The Rhino lift Peter back up and hung him upside down, so that Peter’s face was opposite the Rhino’s.

“You know, you remind me waaaaaay too much of the Hulk,” Peter groaned as he webbed the Rhino in the face. Not that he would ever admit to the Hulk he said that; Peter valued his life, thank you very much (ignoring the fact that he risked his life on a daily basis). The Rhino let go of Peter’s leg, and Peter was able to web one of the nearest orange parking cones, and flung it at the Rhino. The Rhino ducked as he saw it sailing towards him, but it landed on his horn.

“Hey!” Peter exclaimed. “I got the thing on the thing! What do I win?”

“YOU!” The Rhino roared as he shook his head, trying to remove the orange cone that was covering his horn.

“I win me?” Peter laughed. “That makes _no_ sense.”

While the Rhino was distracted Peter webbed his arms to his chest. The Rhino simply tore the webs as if they were made from long, stingy cheese. Like on a pizza. Pizza webs. Spider Pizza! (don’t ask Peter where that simile came from. He was tired, ok?)

“Alright, different tactic.”

Peter began swinging away from the Rhino. Predictably, the Rhino chased after him.

“Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m Spider-man!” Peter taunted (honestly, it was like teasing a three-year-old. A big, grey, wrinkly, rhino-like three-year-old, but, still).

“How does it feel to be hunted, Freak?” The Rhino panted as he gave chase on the streets below.

Luckily, there weren’t many cars that time of night, or there would be more than just small crates in the road marking the Rhino’s footsteps.

“Would you _please_ look who’s talking?” Peter said as he continued to swing away from the Rhino.

He snuck a look over his shoulder. He could see sweat dripping off the Rhino, and his steps were lagging. Good. He was tiring.

“Well, at least… I’m not…a…coward,” the Rhino panted. And then he kicked over a fire hydrant.

Wow. Trust.

“So, you admit you’re a freak?”

The Rhino roared, “I’m going to get you, Menace!”

“Nope!” Peter said. “That’s the Bugle’s name for me. Get your own name!”

“Insect!”

“Spiders aren’t insects! They’re arachnids!”

“Er…ak…nad!”

“Sure, why not?”

It was because Peter was watching the Rhino over his shoulder that he didn’t see the apartment.

Or the glass.

Or the person on the other side of the glass.

Or the building in general, really.

So, Peter smashed through the glass of the apartment window, his back smashing into the person behind him, and they both fell onto the floor in a heap.

Peter groaned as he rolled onto his back, pushing himself off the poor person he had knocked over.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry-”

“Damn, Spidey, if you wanted to visit, you should have called first!”

Wait.

“Deadpool?” Peter asked, moving to sit up. “Ouch. No. Never-mind,” he backtracked as he felt pieces of glass digging themselves deeper into his abdomen. F u n. (That was sarcastic, if you didn’t know. Definitely _not_ fun. The opposite of fun. Wait… the opposite of fun was boring… Well, it sure wasn’t boring, either.)

Peter could still hear the Rhino below him. “Stupid building, made me loose Spider-Man.” There were thuds that reverberated throughout the building. Peter was pretty sure that the Rhino was kicking the building for ‘making it loose Spider-Man.’

Peter shook his head to clear it, and braced himself to sit up. He took in his surroundings. The apartment… was trashed. He turned his head to the side, where Deadpool was staring at Peter with his head cocked, like he was listening to something Peter couldn’t hear, which was highly unlikely, seeing as Peter had enhanced hearing and all. Unless the rumours were true and Deadpool really _was_ crazy.

Of all the apartments in New York, Peter _had_ to swing into Deadpool’s.

Peter groaned (he was doing that a lot) as he stood up and began picking at the pieces glass that had pierced his skin.

Deadpool whistled behind Peter. “ _Damn,_ Spidey, talk about a house-warming gift.”

“Ok, a) how dare you I am standing here being attacked by glass,” Peter said.

Deadpool waved his hand nonchalanty. Peter snorted at his friend’s antics.

 “And b),” Peter continued, “I’m really sorry about your apartment, and c) would you mind giving me a hand with Big, Grey and Stupid down there?”

“Gee, I dunno, Spidey,” Deadpool said. “Wouldn’t it be more gentleman-like to buy me dinner first before busting into my apartment and inviting me into a threesome?”

Peter shivered. “Ew, Pool. You know, some things should just never be said, ok?”

Deadpool snorted.

“So, you in?” Peter asked again.

“Hell yeah.”

 

With Deadpool’s help, Peter managed to draw the Rhino away from the heavily populated part of the city, and eventually wore him out until he passed out. Peter webbed the Rhino up with a note for the cops Deadpool had written (‘Keep this guy locked up already! Maybe a zoo would be better than jail- there are a lot less breakouts,’ followed by a sketch of him and the Rhino), and went to swing home.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Deadpool said, grabbing onto Peter’s leg. “We’re going back to my apartment to get you fixed up, Baby-Boy!”

“Don’t call me that,” Peter said. “And what do you mean? I’m fine.”

“Spidey,” Deadpool said, and it was clear he was rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a gazillion shards of glass in your stomach.”

Peter looked down. Huh. Honestly, he had forgotten about that.

“It’s fine, I’ll heal,” Peter said, moving again to swing home.

“Nope,” Deadpool said, grabbing Peter’s wrists. “Trust me, it is _not_ comfortable to go around with glass in your stomach after you’ve healed over it. Nope! You’re coming with me!”

Peter never really stood a chance, did he?

Peter waved to his friend as he jumped out of the open window to (finally) swing home. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, but Peter knew they would close by the morning. There would probably be a bit of bruising still and a few scars, but he didn’t have gym the next day, so no one would see.

Everything was great.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter slid through the apartment window, careful not to wake his Aunt. If he completed his essay soon, he would still hopefully have a few minutes of sleep before-

Peter’s alarm clock went off as he was taking off his suit.

“ _Shit,”_ Peter swore, as he looked at his watch to double check the time. Huh. Seemed his watch was broken from last-night’s/tonight’s/this-morning’s (time was weird. Plus, he was too tired to care) fight with the Rhino. That meant it wasn’t 11:47 pm, like is watch read, but-

“5:45!?!” Peter cried as he began stumbling over to his desk to transfer the photos from his camera to his laptop to print. He’d have to start his essay at lunch… shit.

Peter tore off the bandages (the wounds were mostly healed) and he began getting ready for school, albeit rather half-heartedly, and after falling over three times getting dressed (he would deny it later) and pouring orange juice into his cereal instead of milk, slid his laptop and printed pictures into his bag and lugged it over his shoulder.

“Bye, May! Love you!” Peter called over his shoulder as he left the apartment.

May’s response was muted as the door shut, but Peter was sure it was along the lines of “Love you, too.”

Peter adjusted his schoolbag over his shoulder and half-walked, half-ran towards the subway station. When he sat down on the train, he brought out the photos of Spidey he had taken for the Bugle. There were a few good shots of Peter battling the Rhino, but Peter was sure Jameson would use the photos of Spider-Man in the dumpster for the Bugle news-story. Peter sighed. The money was worth it, right?

Right?

Sure, Tony had offered to pay him for the ‘internship’ (ignoring the fact that Peter didn’t technically _have_ a _real_ internship at Stark Industries), but Peter had refused the money in favour of getting a proper job. That was definitely worth it. Absolutely. Definitely. At least when Jameson wasn’t shouting at him…

“Thank you, Peter,” Betty, the receptionist at the Bugle, said. “Give me the photos, and I’ll pass them along to Mr Jameson.”

“Thanks, Betty,” Peter called as he sped out of the office, as to not miss his train to school.

When he got off the train, Peter all but sprinted to school. Until he got to the school carpark. The only way to get into school at this time was through the front entrance, and the only way to get to the front entrance was by crossing the carpark. Now, this would be fine, if Flash Thompson hadn’t made it a tradition to literally _try to run Peter over_ every day for the past year. Without his Spider-sense, Peter doubted he would be alive; he would have been killed by Flash. An eighteen-year-old kid, not a supervillain. Well, more, his car. Peter hated how weak it made him look when he sprinted across the carpark, narrowly missing Flash’s car as it sped up towards him. Peter _would_ have maybe stood up to Flash, except Flash’s father was tight with Norman Osborn, and God help you if you got on Norman’s bad side, and the _last_ thing Peter needed was to get Harry's father on his trail, especially when Peter had more important things to worry about, _like the essay that he hadn’t started_ (Peter’s priorities were a bit screwed up).

 

Peter chugged the coffee, tipping his head back so far that he had to grab onto the table when he began to fall off the bench.

“Pete, how the hell are you functioning right now?”

Ned sat opposite Peter, craning his neck and looking at Peter with bleary eyes.

“Caffeine, my friend,” Peter mumbled, slamming the empty coffee cup on the table with a resounding smack, causing Ned to flinch and Peter to momentarily escape his stupor and rub his eyes; his vision turned bleary as he fought against sleep. Peter looked to the clock that hung on the cafeteria wall. 20 minutes of lunch left. He could do it, just… 600 words to be done by next period. Should be ok if he could _get his eyes to stop seeing double so he could type._

 _“Peter,”_ Ned all but shouted.

Peter whipped his head up. “Huh?”

“I’ve said your name four times!”

Peter looked sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Ned sighed. “Seriously, dude, how much sleep did you get last night? I thought you didn’t start the essay until the beginning of lunch.”

Peter looked down. “I was patrolling.”

“ _All night?”_

“Yes?”

“Oh, dear God.”

“I’ve just got to finish this essay quickly. I’ll sleep tonight.”

Ned raised an eyebrow.

“I promise.”

Ned threw Peter a sympathetic look. “Well, you have had two weeks to do it, and you left it literally to the period before, so…”

“Well, it’s not like I had any time with Cap asking me to come ‘round to the compound for days at a time, to ‘train’, if that’s what he would like to call it. Was more like ‘Let’s see how well Peter can block a punch from Captain America.’ Spoiler Alert: Peter Parker cannot block a punch well from _Captain freaking America_ ,” Peter snapped, but the words lost any vigour they may have had as they tumbled out of his mouth that stubbornly decided not to form the correct shapes.

Ned turned to Peter, before glancing at something over Peter’s shoulder. Ned’s face immediately lit up in a smile, and he lifted his hand good-naturedly.

“You spelt dissociated wrong,” a voice said behind Peter.

Peter jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. He whipped his head around.

“Hey, MJ,” Ned greeted.

“Yo.”

“How’d I spell it?” Peter asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could pronounce it. Third line. Good job, Loser,” MJ said coolly.

Peter turned back to his assessment.

 _Dissoactitd._ He’d written _Dissoactitd._ If MJ had found that in the five seconds she had to scan his writing, how many other mistakes had he made? Peter thumped his head onto his keyboard in defeat. He would just close his eyes for a sec…

“PETER!”

Peter flailed. “Huh?”

MJ was glaring at Peter.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he mumbled.

Peter’s phone rang obnoxiously. He ignored the stares people were giving him as he fumbled for it

within his bag.

“ _Shit,”_ Peter said when he saw the contact name.

“Hey D-Tony.”

“Hey, kid,” Tony said. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything urgent-” Peter snorted at that- “but I talked with your Aunt as she said that it was alright for you to come to the Tower this afternoon. You up for it?”

“Of course, Tony! Is there a mission that you need me for, or-”

“None of that,” Tony interrupted _,_ “But, I have some improvements for your suit that I want to go

through with, with you.”

“Ok! I’ll see you then!”

“Back at you, kid.”

Peter hung up. Harry slid onto one of the cafeteria benches.

“Hey, Pete,” he greeted.

“Hi, Haz.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Harry,” MJ said, rolling her eyes.

Harry glanced apologetically at MJ. “So,” Harry continued. “Are you going to try out for the rugby

team tomorrow?”

Peter waved a hand up and down his body. “Me, the scrawny nerd, play rugby against people like Flash?” Peter asked sceptically.

“Hey, to be fair, I’m a scrawny nerd, too,” Harry said.

“Don’t we know it,” MJ and Peter said simultaneously.

“So… are _you_ trying out for the team?” Ned asked, confusion plastered over his face.

“Yeah, my dad thought it would be good. Maybe I’d finally get some muscle on my noodle arms,” Harry said, waving his ‘noodle arms’ limply.

Peter snorted. Then he remembered his essay.

“Kill me now.”

“That sounds really bad without context,” Harry noted. “Are you ok, Pete?”

Peter simply groaned into his keyboard.

“Peter didn’t get any sleep last night and now he has to finish his essay in… seventeen minutes,” MJ stated monotonely, only looking up from her book to glance at her watch.

Harry whistled.

“That’s harsh. What’s it on?”

“Nuclear stuff,” Peter replied.

“I thought you were good at that.”

“I _am,_ but my brain isn’t working too well right now,” was what Peter wanted to say, but it came out more like “My brain isn’t goodly working.” Stupid brain.

Peter had an idea. A complex, smart, inventive idea.

“I’m sorry brain, I take it back, I love you!” Peter said as he turned to Harry.

“Again, no context,” Harry said.

“Help meeeee,” he ordered Harry. A very smart and inventive plan. Innovative? Innovationative? (Stupid brain.)

Harry stared at Peter.

“What?”

“Help me! I’ll dictate, you do your fast typy thing, because I sure can’t type at the moment.”

Harry sighed and took the laptop from Peter.

Harry began reading what Peter had written, with a slightly bewildered expression.

“This is terrible,” he half-whispered.

“Hurry up!” Peter, Ned and MJ all shouted.

Peter and Harry ended up staying ten minutes after the lunch bell had rung to finish Peter’s essay.

“Oh my god, Haz, thank you so much,” Peter said turning to Harry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Harry smiled at Peter. “No problem, Petey.”

Peter left the table with a bubbling feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter managed to go the day without getting any more assignments (that he had heard of; he might have fallen asleep in the middle of science but he can’t fully remember), so, in that way, he told Tony, the day was good.

“Which implies that the day was, in a way, bad,” Tony inferred.

“Well, yeah, this kid at school was being kind of an asshole after school today, but it’s fine,” Peter said, downplaying it. Slightly. Flash and a few of his friends had cornered him after school, calling out his ‘internship’, and how he didn’t know Tony Stark, and he never would, and he was just doing it to get attention, blah, blah, blah. Peter had ignored most of it.

Tony hummed a that.

“Harry’s trying out for the rugby team tomorrow.”

“What, that skinny friend of yours? Osborn’s kid?” Tony asked sceptically.

“Well, he’s not _that_ skinny,” Peter defended, sending Tony a half-hearted glare.

Tony scoffed. “Compared to the people on the rugby team, he is.

“So, what are we doing today?” Peter asked.

“Well, Cap went all ‘human-rights’ on me, so I decided to remove the Baby Monitor Protocol, because it’s an ‘invasion of privacy’, or whatever.”

Peter’s face lit up.

“Up-ba-ba-ba!” Tony interrupted. “That just means that I won’t always be able to see where you are. If I think you’re in trouble or something, though, Friday has the override code,” he warned.

“Thanks, Tony!”

There was silence.

“Can I give you a hug?” Peter asked.

“No-”

Peter launched himself into Tony and gave him a hug.

“I said no.”

“I know.”

Tony pat his back.

Peter pulled back and lifted his arms over his head in a yawn.

Tony froze.

“Peter?” he said.

Peter hummed in acknowledgment.

“What happened to your stomach?”

 _Shit._ When Peter yawned, his t-shirt must have risen over his stomach, revealing the scars and bruises from yesterday’s (today’s) fight.

Peter brushed Tony off. “Just got a bit injured last night. I’m fine though, with the enhanced healing and all. We managed to draw the Rhino away from the more populated parts of the city, so no one got hurt.”

“We?”

 _Double Shit._ “Uh, I had a bit of help.”

“Help?”

“Um…”

“Who,” Tony demanded.

“Deadpool?”

“Nope,” Tony said, placing the screwdriver back onto the workshop bench. He began walking towards the door. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

As Tony continued walking down the corridor, Peter could hear Tony repeating the word like a mantra. Peter sighed. Well, that went well.

Tony returned with a cup of coffee (he’d quit alcohol, for ‘business purposes’ he said, but Pepper said it was more likely for Peter’s sake) a few minutes later, and, after having a very one-sided interrogation with Peter, they continued to work on the suit.

 

Peter and Tony worked on the Spider-suit until 10:30 that night. Peter hadn’t meant to stay at the tower so late, but he didn’t want to leave. Tony was too easy to talk to, and, dare he say it, the closest thing Peter had had to a father-figure science Uncle Ben had died. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Ever.

Peter swung back to his apartment with the improved suit, and told May he was going to bed (pfft, as if).

Peter went on patrol.

The night was surprisingly quiet, but that didn’t mean he got any sleep that night.

Because Deadpool.

That, actually, pretty much summed up the past week.

Because Deadpool.

“Hey, Baby-Boy!” Deadpool said as he clambered onto the rooftop, out of breath. His silhouette quivered as he took large breaths.

“Don’t call me that,” Peter said automatically. He looked over the edge of the building.

“How the hell did you get up here?”

“Mad… urgh… skills, Spidey!” Deadpool said breathlessly, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“Right…” Peter trailed off.

“You want Tacos?” Deadpool asked.

“What?”

“Tacos!” Deadpool said, bringing out two Tacos from one of the bags on his waist. (Seriously. Those bags could hold _anything_ ).

“Sure!”

 

{Ay, you know that this boy’s got his free Taco Bell.}

[Oh my God, that was cringy, even for you.]

{We don’t believe in God, so, therefore, I have reason to ignore everything you just said.}

[And it wasn’t free, we stole it.]

{We didn’t _steal_ it. The guy saw us coming and gave it to us. For free.}

[Probably because he knew who we were and was scared we were going to kill him.]

“Smart man,” Wade said.                                                        

“Huh?” Spider-man said, pausing his eating.

Wade shook his head. “Wasn’t talking to you.”

The whites of Spidey’s eyes narrowed, before he turned back to his Taco.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he said.

[Ha, and put you off your food with this ugly mug? No thanks.]

“Nah, I brought you two,” Wade replied, handing Spider-man the other taco.

[Ew, now he’s going to think we’re nice.]

{Isn’t that a good thing? We like Spidey!}

[Yeah, but we have a reputation to uphold!]

“So, Baby-Boy,” Wade ignored Spidey’s glare. “Your crazy sixth sense feel anything?”

{Crazy? I think it’s hot.}

[You think Spidey’s hot. As a whole.]

{Damn straight.}

 _Ha, gay joke,_ Wade thought.

White was silent.

{DaMmIt! One day I _will_ get you to laugh at my jokes.}

[For that to happen, they need to actually be funny.]

 _Wow, that was such a boring, generic comeback,_ Wade thought.

Spidey-Boy cocked his head to the side.

“There’s a bank robbery on the corner of 85th  and 9th,” he said, standing up, brushing Taco crumbs off his suit and pulling his mask down over his nose.

[{WHOO HOO!}]

 

Peter had meant to sleep last night.

Really,

He had.

But he couldn’t really say in the middle of a mob fight: “Oh hey, Pool, I want to go to sleep so I gotta leave these guys with you because I need sleep cause it’s a school night and I want to sleep so I gotta go sleep.”

So, he didn’t.

Say anything.

Or sleep, for that matter.

He was regretting it.

“PARKER!” someone shouted.

Peter jumped, head flying up from where it was resting on the desk in sleep, his reflexes making Peter pull at the desk and snap the end off it.

Flash smirked. “He’s such a spaz,” Flash said to the person next to him. A guy on the rugby team, Peter thought. Ox? Possibly. He sure looked like an ox. Or King-pin. That body-type. Definitely not the brains or fighting ability, though. Baby King-pin!

Peter looked up to see the teacher looking down at him.

“Um, hi, sir.”

The teacher sighed. “Parker, this is the second desk you’ve broken this week.”

Peter rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.

The teacher hummed. “I’ll be having a talk to your Aunt about this,” he said, returning to the front of the class.

MJ looked side-long at him, giving him her ‘we-are-talking-about-this-after-class’ look.

Peter sighed.

 

“Peter, what was that about?” MJ said, dragging him to the side as Peter exit the classroom.

“What was what about?” he asked innocently.

Michelle glared at him.

Peter caved.

“I’m sorry, MJ, I just haven’t been sleeping lately.”

“Why?”

“What?” Peter asked, confused. The question was very… blunt.

Ned walked up to them.

“He’s been watching Porn,” Ned said.

Peter and MJ both turned to look at Ned.

“Seriously, dude?” Peter said. “Is that your excuse for everything?”

Ned shrugged. “It works.” After looking at MJ and seeing her glare, he squawked out, “most of the time…”

MJ turned back to Peter. “Look, you need to stop lying to me.”

Peter was silent and found himself taking a sudden interest in his shoelaces under her glare.

“I know you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter’s head snapped up to fast his neck cracked.

“ _What?”_ he hissed, looking around and pulling the other two into the nearest classroom.

“How long have you known?” Peter asked.

MJ snorted, folding her arms.

“Why should I tell you that, when you’ve clearly been lying to me for over a year.”

And with that, she stormed out of the classroom.

Ned whistled.

“Damn, Pete, she’s mad.”

“No shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

After last period ended Peter found himself being dragged by Harry towards the rugby stadium.

What was it with him being dragged by his friends?

Even Deadpool had dragged him into a Mexican Restaurant the other day.

 “Uhhhh…” Peter said as he was dragged through the door and placed into one of the spectator seats, his bag still hanging off one shoulder from where he hadn’t had enough time to pull on the other strap before Harry had dragged him out of class.

Peter stared blankly at his friend.

“Huh?” he said, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Wow, Pete,” Harry said. “You’re really out of it.”

“Just tired,” Peter mumbled.

Harry sighed. “Anyway. You’re going to watch me try out for the team, ok?”

Peter nodded and mockingly cheered, “Woo-hoo! Go Haz!”

Harry smirked and ran onto the field.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. There was a minor pounding at the base of his neck that he recognised as his Spidey-Sense (so-named by Ned. Not Peter. Ned. Blame Ned for the shitty name).

Peter looked around, but the pain felt more distant than it normally did, like it was far away.

Or that it was coming.

Peter shook his head. He was probably just tired.

 

The trial… was… for want of a better word… terrible.

It wasn’t that Harry was bad, so to speak, but more that everyone else was just… bigger than him. He was fast, sure, faster than everyone else there, but not fast enough to avoid getting tackled.

Again.

And again.

And again.

When Harry came off the field and towards Peter, he was sporting a large bruise on his cheekbone that didn’t look like it was going away any-time soon.

Peter opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” Harry said, holding up a finger to silence him.

Harry slumped down on the bench, and rest his hands on his chin.

Peter sighed. “Look, Harry, maybe Rugby isn’t the best sport for you.” Peter turned his body to face Harry. “I mean, you’re really good at basketball. You got the team into the State Competition.”

“Maybe,” Harry said. “It’s just that, my dad used to play Rugby,” he paused. “And I just feel that maybe he’d pay more attention to me if I played it as well,” Harry continued.

Peter clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, I honestly don’t know what to say. I think that if your father isn’t listening to you, then you should stop trying, because you are way too good for him.”

“I just… he’s all I have left,” Harry said dejectedly.

Boy, did Peter know how that felt. May was all he had left, and Peter doubted he’d be able to bear it if she ignored him.

Peter sighed. “The trials go for two days, right?”

Harry nodded.

“So, there’s always tomorrow. Who knows, maybe you weren’t playing your best today. You could make up for today’s performance tomorrow.”

Harry seemed to mull this over.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” he said, standing up. “See you tomorrow, Pete!” he called over his shoulder, as he ran out of the stadium.

Peter sighed.

He seemed to be sighing a lot lately. And groaning. A sighing Peter Parker and a groaning Spider-man. Put them together, and, whelp, that amounted to a kind of snort. He was a snort of a person. Great. He was waaaaaaay too tired.

Regardless, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go severely wrong.

 

Tony shuffled the Spanish flash cards Peter had shoved into his hands.

“So, kid,” he said. “How was school today?”

“Pretty good. I mean, I broke a desk,” Peter replied. He would have gone on but Tony held up a finger, still not looking at Peter.

Huh. Breaking a desk probably wasn’t out of the ordinary anymore.

Tony squinted at one of the cards.

“God, Kid. Why do you bother with this stuff?” he asked.

Peter looked at him blandly. “It’s compulsory.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but why don’t you just focus on more important stuff? Like science and engineering.”

Peter scoffed. “You’re just biased.”

“Not gonna deny it, Kid.”

“MJ knows I’m Spider-Man.”

“What?” Tony said, eyebrows raised. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know! She guessed, I suppose,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck.

Tony didn’t say anything, so Peter went on.

“And then she stormed away and it seemed like she was really mad, and I just feel like a should have told her, you know, because then all of this could have been avoided, because, really, MJ is really good with secrets, and I’m not scared that she’d tell anyone, it’s just that she’s a really good friend and I’ve known her half my life and I don’t want-”

Tony cut Peter off. “Kid,” he said, placing down the large stack of Spanish flash-cards. “Just talk to her tomorrow, ok? If she’s as good a friend you say she is, then she’s sure to forgive you.”

Peter was still unsure.

Tony sighed. “And if that doesn’t work, you can perform your unfair ‘kicked-puppy’ charade.”

“I do _not_ have a ‘kicked-puppy’ charade,” Peter said, moving his fingers for the inverted commas.

Tony snorted. “Sure.”

“Harry had his first day of trials today,” Peter said, swiping one of the Spanish cards Tony had discarded, and started examining it like it held the answers to the universe.

“Oh, Lord. How’d that go?”

“Good.”

There was a span of silence in which neither said anything.

Tony smirked. “Judging by how you’re not doing that word-vomit thing you where you talk a mile-a-minute, I’m going to guess that you’re lying.”

“I do not word-vomit.”

“What’d you think of the new Star Wars Movie you saw with Ned last Saturday?” Tony asked.

“It was on Sunday, and, I mean, it was ok. It doesn’t compare to the originals, though, the trilogy, not the time-line originals, because, I mean, that CGI was amazing, especially for its age, but-” Peter cut himself off at the billionaire’s raised eyebrow.

“Ok, maybe you have a point,” Peter said.

“So, I repeat. How’d skinny kid’s trial go?”

“Not very well,” Peter admitted. “I mean, he was better that some people there, but he most likely won’t get in. He’s too-”

“Small?” Tony supplied. “Skinny? Shrimpy?”

“Can you think of a word that doesn’t start with ‘s’?”

“Scattered? Scrappy? Shabby? Scaly? Shrivelled?”

“Hey, this is my friend we’re talking about! And none of those were even true. They have to be true if you’re going to say it!”

“Stupid?”

“Mr Stark!”

Tony laughed.

Peter thumped his head on the desk. “Just read the flashcard.”

“Oh, that slangwhanger!”

Peter lifted his head.

“What?”

Tony was scrolling through his phone, looking at a Bugle article.

“What the hell does slangwhanger mean?” Peter asked.

“Look it up kid,” Tony said, standing to leave, muttering under his breath, “Just because I can’t pee in my suit doesn’t mean I wet myself, I’m gonna have to get Friday on whoever wrote that fricking article.”

“Are you just naming another word that begins with ‘s’?” Peter asked as Tony left the room.

“I mean, how do you come across that word? Do you look up on the internet, “Extremely weird words that no one’s heard before?” Peter asked to empty air. Peter thumped his head on the table again.

Tony’s head whipped back into view in the doorway. “24 MILLION VIEWS ALREADY? HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN, PETER???????”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Peter was surprised.

He actually slept that night.

You know, only after Ned threatened that he wouldn’t let Peter help him build his new Millennium Falcon if Peter didn’t stop studying for the Spanish Test that was three days away.

Of course, he still felt like shit in the morning.

When Peter’s alarm-clock went off, Peter felt sluggish. What was that word? Limacine. Yes, Peter was feeling very ‘limacine’. He didn’t think that was the right context, though, because StUfF hIs BrAiN, but still. He felt like a slug.

Peter dragged himself out of bed, his feet dragging behind him as he walked (stumbled) towards his door. He oddly didn’t have his usual ‘spring’ in his step that morning. Maybe it was a sign that MJ was going to hate him forever and there would be no hope of her ever forgiving him and he’d have no-one to talk to when Flash was annoying him and eventually he would just get sick of everyone and he would- Peter groaned and splashed his face with water.

Like his anxiety would go away with water.

Ha.

 

There were no photos for the Bugle that morning, so, whelp, no money, but at least he actually _slept_. Peter was sure he would have begun hallucinating soon. Not that he felt any better. If Peter was mugged at that moment, on the train ride to school, he wouldn’t have noticed.

Luckily, he wasn’t, otherwise good-bye Spider-suit. And identity. And life. You know, maybe he shouldn’t just keep his Spider-suit in his bag…

Peter entered the school car-park and narrowly missed the tip of Flash’s car, only due to his Spidey-sense. Peter shivered. One day, someone was going to get seriously hurt.

Peter walked into school and immediately saw MJ talking with Ned. As Peter approached, MJ looked at the ground and let Ned begin a one-sided conversation, with no questioning from the latter.

“Hey MJ,” Peter said. MJ ignored him.

“Look, I-”

“I forgive you.”

“What?”

“I forgive you,” MJ reiterated.

Peter looked shocked. “Why? I lied to you!”

MJ shrugged. “I get why you did it. Besides,” she said. “It would be too hard to train anyone else to get me a coffee every day.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Peter sighed in relief, and gave her the coffee he had bought for her (what? It was tradition!). Honestly, Peter hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

They walked to class, all awkwardness gone. Peter told Ned and MJ about Harry’s trial.

Then they discussed their homework

{His priorities are stuffed up, remember?}

[We’re not in this scene!]

{So?}

[ _So_ , Deadpool doesn’t know about Peter or Spider-man! Why are we here? We don’t know anything about him!]

{Well, we know Spidey’s phone-number!}

[When’d that happen?]

{Night before last.}

[Huh. Guess writer lady forgot to write that]

{Hey, fourth wall breaks are my thing!}

[Shut up and let the author get on with the story.]

{But I’m bored and Deadpool’s sleeping.}

[Just shut up.]

“Hey, where’s Harry?” Ned asked

“I hath been summoned!” A voice behind the three of them said, and arms were wrapped around Ned, MJ and Peter’s shoulders.

“Hey, Harry, that was coincidental,” Ned said, turning to Harry.

MJ wriggled out of his hold, and scrutinised him. “Did you wait for us to say something like that, just so you could make an entrance like that?”

“Something along those lines,” Harry said.

MJ rolled her eyes and sped up so she left the others. “I’m surrounded by losers.”

“Love you, too, MJ!” Peter called.

MJ lifted her middle finger.

Peter snorted. MJ and Shuri would get along so well.

Peter shivered. Maybe too well. Peter was going to make it his mission that they never met.

Harry turned to Ned and Peter. “So, how’s Tony Stark?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What? You checking out the competition for your dad?”

Harry raised an eyebrow of his own. “Why d’you wanna know? So _you_ can tell _your_ dad?”

“Mr Stark’s not my dad!” Peter said, frowning.

“Ehrm, this begs to differ,” Ned said, waving his hand, which held Peter’s phone.

“How the hell did you get that?” Peter said, lunging towards Ned, but Harry blocked him, leaning on Ned’s shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked Ned.

“Well,” Ned said, prolonging the suspense. “There just seems to be a lot of ‘what do you feel like for dinner’s and ‘are you asleep yet, or are you hiding in the vents with Clint?’ Wow. That was an actual text.” Ned looked sidelong at Peter. “No wonder you never get any sleep. Anyway, it’s a lot of the domestic shit that comes with families.”

“Come on, guys, give me my phone back,” Peter said, reaching his arms out and grabbing empty air.

“Hey, who’s ‘Sexy Muthafucka’?” Harry asked, his lip curling as he scrolling though Peter’s messages.

“No one!” Peter said, lunging forward, using his super-strength to escape Harry, and hastily put his phone into his bag.

“Did you put that contact in, or…” Harry trailed off.

“God, no,” Peter replied. “They did.”

“Not gonna give us a gender, huh?” Ned asked.

“Is this some kind of love interest?” Harry poked. “You got a guy you’re not telling us about?”

“What about a girl?” Ned asked.

“Shut up!” Peter said, blushing. “He’s a friend from… work.”

“So, you looking forward to the second day of trials this avo?” Peter asked Harry, ignoring the not-so-subtle conversation change.

Ned looked to Harry with a knowing look, but Harry was too preoccupied with his shoes to notice.

“Actually, Pete,” Harry said, wrapping his arm over Peter and Ned’s shoulders as they began to walk to class (even though the bell hadn’t gone yet- yes, they were _those_ people), “I’m feeling pretty good about it.”

“Really?” Ned asked.

“Yeah,” Harry continued. “I had a talk with my dad, and he’s given me a really good tactic.”

“Care to spill?” Peter asked, genuinely curious as to what Harry could possibly be so confident in.

“Sorry, Pete, trade secret,” Harry said, tapping the side of his nose.

“Don’t do that,” Ned berated Harry. “Only old people do that. Like those pictures of Santa Claus.”

“How dare you?” Harry said, placing his hand over his chest in mock hurt. “I am the same age as you, so, ha, you’re old too.”

“Ned’s actually younger than you,” Peter butt in.                                                           

“By, like, two months!”

“And in those two months, you aged tremendously,” Ned said.

Harry halted in his tracks. “Shit,” he said, under his breath, and Peter only just heard with his enhanced senses.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Uh,” Harry said, “B-Bathroom,” and he half walked/ran in the opposite direction of the bathroom.

“That’s odd,” Ned said.

The bell went, signalling 5 minutes until school started. Harry had just enough time to go to the bathroom and make it to class in time.

“Wait,” Peter said. “I’m not actually in your first period.”

“I know,” Ned said.

“Well, thanks for reminding me!” Peter said sarcastically as Ned mock-saluted. Peter turned to walk to his class.

He was at the end of the corridor when the second bell went.

Peter’s Spidey-Sense went off, but Peter new he had to ignore it, to avoid suspicion.

He just wished it hurt less.

Peter was smashed into one of the lockers, leaving a small dent behind as he almost crumpled as his knees shook.

“Watch where you’re going, nerd,” Flash said as he brushed past (read: barged into) Peter’s shoulder.

Peter rubbed his shoulder and sighed as Flash and his lackeys laughed as if he had just made the best joke in the world. Peter rolled his eyes as they walked away. His jokes were way better.

“You keep telling yourself that, Loser,” MJ said. Huh. Apparently, he had said that out loud.

“How do you keep, just, appearing like that?” Peter asked, baffled. He had a god-damn Spider-sense, for God’s sake!

“I just walk. You’re the one who doesn’t see.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting to class?” Peter asked.

“Could say the same to you,” MJ replied. “Besides, Harry’s disappeared somewhere so I need someone else to walk to class with.”

“We have different classes for first though.”

“I just said I _would_ walk with Harry, who _is_ in my class, but _like I said,_ he disappeared.”

“I feel attacked!”

MJ shrugged. “It was a stupid question.”

Peter smirked. “Of course, that’s why you had to give a stupid answer. I see now.”

Peter ducked to avoid MJ’s slap to the back of his head, and rose with a shit-eating grin.

“You know you love me!”

 

It was during second period that Peter got the phone call. Peter winced apologetically at his teacher as he answered it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

{Is it our turn yet?}

[Yes.]

{Yay! So… What are we going to do?}

[Yellow. There’s a green thing flying on a metal bird. What do you think we’re going to do?]

{Run. DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN D- I’ll stop now so that writer lady can stop writing dun.}

[Do you have to constantly quote vines and memes?  It’s stupid.]

{THIS IS WHY MOM DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU!}

[What did that have to do with anything? We aren’t even holding a gun. We’re holding binoculars on a rooftop looking at a guy in a scandalous Halloween costume. Which we don’t know what we’re going to do about, for the record. Plus, we don’t have a mom.]

{Wow. harsh. That struck deep. The pain. Hit me right in the heart, you know? Will I ever the be the same again?}

[Let’s hope not.]

{Rude!}

“Ooh!” Wade said. “Let’s call Spidey!”

[Isn’t he usually absent from the streets at this time of the day?]

{Probably working.}

“Nah, we’re 22 and he’s clearly younger than us. He’s probably at school.”

[Paedophile.]

{Pervert}

[Monster]

{Insane}

[Useless.]

{Tacos.}

[Annoying]

{Chimichangas…}

[Yellow]

{Right. Violent.}

[Ugly]

{Unreliable}

“All right, enough!” Wade said, pulling his phone out of his belt. “And it’s not like I’m in love with the guy.”

[Sure.]

{Yay! Are we calling him?}

“You are in my mind. You can find out for yourself.”

{Yay! Spidey!}

[This is a mistake. You. Are. Dangerous.]

{Shut up! I want Spidey to come!}

“Innuendo not intended.”

{You sure about that, Pooly?}

 

“Hello?” Peter said, glancing at his teacher who was glaring at him.

_“Hey, Baby-Boy!”_

Peter sighed. Deadpool. “What do you want?”

_“There’s this Green guy flying around everywhere and causing havoc. Can you heeeelllppp me?”_

“Why do you want _my_ help? You’re surely capable to handle it.”

_“Well, I tried…”_

“And?” Peter said, walking to his teacher, indicating to his phone and mouthing ‘Tony Stark.’

The teacher looked slightly baffled but waved to say he could go.

Peter left the classroom, already knowing that it would be best for him to go see what Deadpool wanted.

_“And Green-Guy has these pumpkin bombs and he throws them and they- wait, was that a throwing-bat-thing? Is this guy BATMAN?”_

“He has pumpkin bombs? What is this, Halloween?”

_“Yeah! And he stole Batman’s bats.”_

“I’m going to ignore the rest of that because I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about. Be there in ten.”

_“But you don’t know where I am-”_

“I can hear you from here.”

Peter hung up the phone and ran to his locker to take out his suit.

Green guy, pumpkins, bats- yep, it sure did sound like Halloween a month early. As Peter swung through the city to down-town New York he contemplated the costumes of villains and vigilantism. When Peter first made his Spidey-suit he had had in mind a friendly, colourful approach. All the villains, though, seemed to take the same approach, for reasons Peter was yet to figure out. What, did they _want_ to look like idiots? Really, Peter was kinda grateful: it gave him fuel to constantly spew quips. It was perfect, really. What would he think up for this Mysterious Green-guy? Who was he?

And then there was Deadpool, who made his suit red.

To hide the blood.

…Nice.

Speaking of Deadpool…

“Yo,” Peter said, dropping onto a flagpole that was sticking out of the apartment roof.

“You’re in a good mood, Baby-Boy!” Deadpool said, jumping up from his crouch and shoving his binoculars into one of the pouches on his belt (why did he have _so_ many?).

Peter shrugged. “I had a good sleep last night.” He jumped down from the flagpole and landed next to Deadpool. “So, what’s the situation?”

“Well,” Deadpool said, brushing his hands. “There’s this funky guy dressed in a skimpy Halloween costume from the 90s who-”

Deadpool was cut off as a bomb exploded on a nearby skyscraper.

Deadpool whistled. “Yeah, umm, that,” he said, pointing at a figure who came into view from behind the building.

Deadpool’s description… was pretty accurate, honestly.

“I can’t believe that I’m saying this,” Peter said, “But you’re right. This guy looks like he came from one of those horror movies from, like, the 80s.”

“Yeah, like if a Gremlin turned green and grew a few feet.”

“Or just a tall goblin,” Peter said.

Deadpool shrugged. “I’m betting he’s a Gremlin.”

“How much?”

“20.”

“Deal.”

The green gremlin/goblin cackled as he approached.

“What’s the fuck is he flying on?” Deadpool asked, inspecting the end of his gun.

Peter swung a web. “How would I know?”

As Spider-man swung towards the gremlin/goblin he heard Deadpool mutter, “Gremlin technology,” before the mercenary dropped onto the street below.

From the roof.

“Shit, that hurt like a muthafucka!”

Peter rolled his eyes, biting back the ‘language’ that was on the tip of his tongue. Peter sighed. He’d been hanging around Cap too much.

Although, Tony had said that to Peter a few times.

Hypocrite.

That made Peter roll his eyes harder.

You know, sometimes he was scared his eyes would get stuck mid-roll, he rolled his eyes so often.

Tony as well.

It was a problem.

{You know what they say!}

[It’s not our point of view yet.]

{Like father like son!}

[It’s not our point of view!]

{Oh, come oooonnnnn, Writer Lady! Make it our point of view!}

[Why did you capitalise writer lady? She doesn’t deserve it. She almost failed her half-yearly Maths exam because she spent her study-time writing this story. She’s an absolute idiot.]

{Shhhhhhh, she’ll hear you!}

[That was one of the most stupid things I’ve heard you say.]

“Well, there was that one time in Vegas,” Deadpool said, shaking out his broken foot in the alleyway.

[Oooh, smooth transition, writer lady!]

{What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.}

“Guys. Stop. We need to catch Gremlin on his stupid Gremlin flying machine.”

{It’s awesome and you know it.}

[It’s a Goblin.]

“Huh?” Wade said. “What’s a goblin?”

{Hey! I’m the fourth wall breaker!}

[Shut. Up. The green guy. He’s a Goblin. The Green Goblin.]

{He’s a Batman imposter!}

[Wrong universe]

{Do I care?}

[No, and that makes it that much more annoying.]

“So, he’s not a Gremlin?” Wade said. “Did we just loose 20 bucks?”

{Yup!}

[Not if we don’t give it to him.]

{That’s mean.}

[We’re mean.]

{Not to Spidey!}

“Guys, shut up, we need to catch up,” Wade said, and he began jogging towards the Goblin and the Spider.

The Goblin was on a hover-board of sorts, that was shaped like a hawk.

[You don’t need to describe it. The readers already know what it is.]

{Stop breaking the fourth wall! It’s my thing!}

[At least I use it for a purpose, instead of shouting ‘Batman’ a few times a week for what you think is ‘humour’.]

{Why do you spell it like that?}

[Like what.

{Humour. Shouldn’t it be humor?}

[Writer lady’s Australian.]

{But this is set in America, and most of the readers are American.}

 **Yes, and do you know how hard it is to write this fic in an American city when I’ve never been there? Like, what the hell is the school system? Why do Americans forget the ‘u’ in half their words? Why do they spell ‘mum’ ‘mom’- are Americans just really adverse the letter ‘u’? What do you call streets, like, what the hell is 85 th street? Why are they numbers? Is that a street that’s even in New York? What is New York? What am I doing? Why am I writing this? What is life?** **What if I’m just some random low-evolved multicellular organism floating around in nothing and I’m only dreaming my consciousness and my whole life and existence and everything around me is a dream?**

{Wow.}

[You got a bit off topic there, writer lady…]

**Ummmm, yeah. Where were we in the story?**

{We were about to have sex with Spidey.}

**…no…**

[Spidey was going to fight the Green Goblin and Deadpool was going to catch up to them.]

**Oh, right. We better get back on topic…**

“Hey, Spidey!” Wade called up at the vigilante.

Spidey barely spared Wade a glance. To be fair, though, he _was_ battling the Green Goblin.

“I’m kinda feeling left out here!” Wade shouted, and he felt a web attach to the back of his suit as he was yanked up to a building nearby the hero.

“Now what?” Wade said, addressing the boxes.

[Well, you know what they say.]

{A grenade a day keeps the bad-guys away!}

 [Well, that’s not what I was going to say, but, meh, it works.]

{Do it! GRENADE HIM!}

“Spidey said no killing.”

[Just, use your electricity grenade thing and fry his hawk-mobile.]

{ _GRENADE HIM!}_

“Ok!”

Wade took the safety off the grenade and threw it at the Green Goblin, aiming for his flying hawk thing.

The grenade hit its mark and fizzled, electricity crackling along the length of the Goblin’s hawk.

Spider-Man had attached himself to the side of a building, and the Green Goblin let out a strangled garble as he fell towards the floor.

[Garble? Seriously?]

{Writer lady’s tired.}

[Don’t defend her!]

{Look at Spidey!}

“That selfless idiot,” Wade hissed under his breath as Spider-Man fell from the building and started encasing the Goblin in a shell of protective webs as the two of them fell to the floor.

“Goddammit, just let him fall!” Wade shouted up to Spidey, but the vigilante must not have heard him over the wind that would have been rushing past his ears.

[Or he just ignored you.]

{Both are likely.}

“What should we do?” Wade said to the boxes.

{Stand under Spidey and catch him! Maybe he’ll land in our arms!}

[Maybe? That kind of defeats the purpose of trying to catch him, doesn’t it?]

{Yes!}

[Idiot.]

{Rude!}

{…}

{Why am I an idiot?}

It turns out, Wade hadn’t needed to fret so much. The Spider simply caught himself with his web before hitting the ground.

“Huh. Why didn’t we think of that?” Wade said from where he stood underneath where Spidey _would_ have fallen.

[I thought of it.]

{Then why didn’t you say anything?}

[Because I wanted Wade to think for himself for once instead of relying on me.]

“Sure,” Wade said, walking over to where Spider-Man had dropped from his web onto the floor. Spidey had attached one end of his web to a lamp-post, and the other was attached to the ball of webbing that was now the Green Goblin.

“I think you got him good, Baby-Boy,” Wade said. “Doubt he’ll be able to escape that.”

“Hopefully,” the Spider said. “Guess now all we have to do is hand him into the police, and find out who this guy is.”

The Goblin cackled. “Oh, you wouldn’t care who I was. If you knew who I was, you would let me go immediately,” he said, still grinning largely.

“Yeah, nope,” Wade said.

{Someone’s sure of themselves.}

[We wouldn’t let them go. Ever.]

“I’m pretty sure ‘they,’ are a dude,” Wade said.

Spidey cocked his head at Wade, but Wade ignored the hero.

[Are you assuming gender?]

“He’s clearly a guy!” Wade argued. “Hey, Greenie!” Wade said, turning to the Goblin. “Are you a guy or a gal?”

The goblin just cackled.

{He’s mad.}

[Insane]

{Sounds like someone we know.}

The boxes were interrupted by the Spider-Man theme. Spidey reached into a hidden pocket and took out his phone.

“Wha- How did your phone fit under that sweet, sweet spandex?” Wade said, flabbergasted.

[Flabbergasted? Seriously]

{Writer lady’s tired.}

[She’s already used that excuse! She can’t use that excuse to get away with using weird words!]

{More importantly, how does Spidey know the 1960s Spider-Man tune?}

“Dude, what? How do I only have fifteen minutes?” Spidey said into the phone. “No, I did not loose track of time, I just got,” he looked side-long at the Goblin, “caught up. Be back in ten.”

Spidey turned to Wade. “Look, I gotta go. Do you think you could watch this guy until the police show up? Thanks!”

Spidey webbed away before Wade could answer.

Wouldn’t have made a difference, though.

[Whipped.]

“Shut up.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, my dudes, hope you enjoyed so far! I'm aiming to a chapter every second Monday, so keep an eye out! I love reading and replying to all your comments, and, um... Kudos? Please?
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING GUYS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!


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